My problem is I fear.
I hold on.
I never know when to give up.
I blindly wave my hands in front of me in hopes that I'll find a hidden door to paradise,
Althewhile I fully expect to never find something that will allow me to stop wandering.
If that wasn't enough,
I drag the locked doors that I find along the way behind me in hopes that,
one day,
they'll magically open.
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 7:49 AM UTC
My problem is I fear.
I hold on.
I never know when to give up.
I blindly wave my hands in front of me in hopes that I'll find a hidden door to paradise,
Althewhile I fully expect to never find something that will allow me to stop wandering.
If that wasn't enough,
I drag the locked doors that I find along the way behind me in hopes that,
one day,
they'll magically open.
Anxiety written in a way anyone can understand.